When Django Met Drusilla: A Tale Of Two Loonies
by Django
Summary: Learn how Drusilla finds true love with a Bronzer (of all people). See Drusilla's stellar career with the FBI come to a shocking end! Includes a few Buffy/Angel cameos, some musical flashbacks and a very surreal Spuffy sequence. Most importantly, it fe
1. Chapter One All Work And No Play?

WHEN DJANGO MET DRUSILLA:  
A TALE OF TWO LOONIES  
  
BY DJANGO  
  
CHAPTER ONE -  
ALL WORK AND NO PLAY?  
  
This opening scene could have taken place anywhere in the UK. Anywhere there's a harbour and ships coming in from over the world. Think about that for a moment. Maybe you could have been the harbour master. Maybe you saw the strange boat moving erratically, as if out of control. Maybe you became suspicious and radioed the harbour police. How silent and deathlike the boat would look to your eyes, as the harbour police boarded. How bloodcurdling, their screams would sound, echoing from within. This harbour master, in question, was not a particularly brave man. What he now heard, made him downright terrified. His nerve broke on him and he hid behind some crates.  
  
A little while later, the sound of girlish laughter came from the boat. Closer it came. Two figures finally emerged. The raven haired, taller one wore a glittering silver evening gown, an oversized but elegant boater hat, cool shades and colourful fake furs. The smaller blonde girl also had furs draped over her shoulder but she was dressed ready for the beach in her bright yellow top and shorts, novelty sunglasses and a ludicrous "Kiss Me Quick" hat.  
  
Harmony looked out over the brim of her sunglasses. "Ugh! It's all so dreary and dull. Where's the sun?"  
  
Drusilla smiled coolly. "I told you arriving in the UK during the day wouldn't be a problem. What a rough voyage we had though."  
  
"Well, you did tear the engine out! Honestly, sometimes I don't believe you!"  
  
Drusilla lost her sophisticated composure. "I told you, it growled at me. I won't have vulgarity on my ship!" A bright smile lit up her face. "Besides, I'm a princess! And the ship's tummy was all littered with diamonds, just for me." Drusilla grew reflective. She hated people to be critical of her but it struck herself, that she must seem very greedy at times to her personal assistant. "Oh don't worry Harmony. I'm sure we'll find a nice gift shop around here. I could buy you something."  
  
"Whatever!" Harmony exclaimed, half listening. It was rather rude of her and she could tell Drusilla was frowning at her. Harmony didn't much care though, what her mean old boss thought of her. She began to talk excitedly, "I want to meet a real princess! We have to hit all the sights. There's going to be so much to see! There's-"  
  
"Now Harmony, you know very well we're here to work." Drusilla admonished. A real princess, indeed! "The Federal Bureau have assigned me to a very important case. And it's up to us to foster good relations with the nice police force while we're here."  
  
"Too bad the ones who came on the ship were so grumpy!" Harmony grumbled. "I really didn't like their manners."  
  
"Perhaps." Drusilla agreed. "But we did paint their faces with smiles. Did you see how grateful they looked afterwards?"  
  
"Well I don't see why we should have to work while we're here." Harmony argued, "I mean who wants to look at silly slides? And who cares if Freeserf are running an illegal cloning factory?"  
  
Drusilla found herself smiling contentedly. What a silly little personal assistant she had. The poor girl would never advance in the Bureau  
  
****  
  
Django broke his way out of the burning factory's fire escape with a primordial roar. He was dazed from the acrid smoke that almost seemed to flee from the building with him. Stumbling, he spluttered and tried to shake his head clear. The danger wasn't over yet.  
  
Just in time, he sensed the movement. Three of the reptilian demon bodyguards had also escaped the flames. They seemed less than pleased with the opportunity to start over in a new career. The leader came boldly, slashing with knives in each hand and with a spare in his clenched teeth. Django, in a blur of movement, broke the demon's foot, grabbed the knife from it's mouth and plunged it into his opponent's back. The dark haired young man had no time to be gentle. The information he had gained could prove valuable to the CIA and Django knew they weren't worthy of it just yet. Django looked forward to getting home and to his next visit to his favourite bar, the Bronze (bater). He very much hoped that comrade Little Miss Muffetivich and comrade Kronosky would be there to have a vodka with him.  
  
From her vantage point, on a nearby roof, a small girl-like figure watched Django fight the demons. He was very good, the tiny figure observed silently. Perhaps he would be a suitable candidate after all. The mysterious figure giggled (again silently) at the prospect, but now it was time to return home. She had a sudden craving for tea and wished to write a letter to a certain stuffed pig, before afternoon nap. Perhaps this time, everyone could be happy.  
  
****  
  
Buffy nervously kissed her pillow goodnight. That wasn't so bad. She kissed it again, gripped it firmly and kissed it a third time, this time holding the kiss as long as possible.  
  
"This would be better with handcuffs, you know pet." the pillow seemed to say.  
  
"Shut up!" Buffy annoyedly nudged the pillow in the ribs. Honestly, he could be so disgustingly gross at times. No wait, it still wasn't right. The pillow lacked something. A certain icy-coldness to it's body. Maybe if she were to sneak downstairs and put it in the fridge for a little while. Suddenly, Buffy was blinded by her light being switched on unexpectedly.  
  
"BUFFY! I CAN'T FIND MR-" Dawn stopped, confused. "What are you doing?" She frowned and shook it off. "I CAN'T FIND MR GORDO!"  
  
"Now's not the best time, Niblet." the pillow scolded. Buffy looked warningly at it.  
  
"That's what you came to wake me for?" Buffy tried to contain her annoyance.... and embarrassment. "For god's sakes Dawn, he must be around here somewhere. Couldn't you have went to Willow instead. She could have used a locator spell or....hmmm. maybe not a good idea." Here was a conundrum. At least she hadn't given into letting the pillow handcuff her.  
  
"I searched everywhere!" Dawn went on, trying to deny that icky feeling she was getting, from the way Buffy had been lying on her pillow. "What if it's like the last time? What if he's run off again to that-"  
  
"Enough! Stop it Dawn. Let me think." Buffy didn't want to remind herself of that time, when all the menfolk in her life seemed to be betraying her. Running to the enemy. In some ways, Mr Gordo had been the cruellest betrayal of all. At least Buffy could tell herself that Angel had been Angelus. Mr Gordo, on the other hand, had always been just Mr Gordo. That really stung.  
  
Too late! Buffy caught a flash -  
  
She was standing outside in the graveyard. It was cold and Buffy didn't know where to look. All she could do was sing. Open her heart and hope she somehow reached both the ears and heart of her enemy.  
  
"Edith! Edith! Edith, Ediiiiiith! I beg you doll, Please don't take my stuffed pig!"  
  
- Buffy wrinkled her nose and grimaced. But surely that had never really happened. Had it?  
  
Another flash -  
  
Soft focus. Chocolate box photography. Miss Edith and Mr Gordo were having a picnic. It was all green as far as the eye could see. They'd argued. But now they were making up. Miss Edith accepted Mr Gordo in a warm embrace and gazed lovingly and forgivingly.  
  
"You had a temper, like my jealousy Too hot, too greedy." - Kate Bush  
  
-aaarrrggghhh! Buffy tried to clear her head. "Dawn, just give me a few minutes to get dressed. We'll look together. If we can't find him, we'll wake Willow and go and see Angel."  
  
Buffy had a plan. A cruel plan. But one, perhaps, that would force that cruel temptress's hand. If, Mr Gordo had really gone off to her again.  
  
Buffy turned one last time to her pillow. "You're unhealthy for me. I can't bear to be with you anymore. You disgust me, you dead thing!"  
  
The pillow seemed to gloat. Buffy snarled, but then relented. "Oh come on and give us a cuddle before I get ready." 


	2. Chapter Two A Gathering Of Forces

CHAPTER TWO -  
A GATHERING OF FORCES  
  
Drusilla cleared her throat demurely. She felt very professional standing on the podium. She stood before an assemblage of high ranking police officials and some of her fellow FBI agents, who were also called in for this important liaison of American and British law enforcement techniques. The location was Bramshill, the leading British police college. Drusilla's very own immediate superior was in attendance, so Drusilla felt she must be on her best behaviour.  
  
"Now if you just look to the next slide, dearies, I'm sure you'll see me working on the case of the Massachusetts Torso Collector. Here, I aided local law enforcement in-"  
  
Drusilla glanced round at the projection screen and recoiled in horror at what she saw. An involuntary whimper made her feel, for a moment, more like a little wounded deer rather than the fearless and exceptionally brilliant Special Agent she was now hailed as. "Mmmmm....nnnn...rrrrr! This is all so horribly wrong! Everything's gone upside down. Just like Acathla had decided to suck us all into a portal after all, only he won't sing to us anymore. He's shy and ooooh!"  
  
Drusilla here turned and stood with clenched fists, fuming at that horrible no good girl. "Oh sorry!" Harmony bashfully apologised, realising her mistake with the projector. "Ooops, silly me! You probably wanted that the other way around."  
  
"Silly little assistant!" Drusilla hissed venomously, at her supposed protege.  
  
Harmony started fiddling with the projector slides. She put the current slide back in the proper way, getting it all sticky with her fingerprints! Not quite finished yet, she picked out another slide and looked confusedly at it under the light. "Er, I don't think this was supposed to be in here, but does anyone want to see a picture of Antonio Banderas as the next slide?" Harmony looked around at the assembled stuffy audience members.  
  
Beginning to feel all flustered and light headed, Drusilla turned her attention back to the audience. "Ooooh, I've gone and felt all funny. Like little sparrows being eaten in the woods and the children won't come out to play!" Drusilla beamed as she observed that some of the assembled officers were taking notes. How attentive they all were. Wanting to grasp at all the knowledge.  
  
Drusilla rubbed her brow. Oh how it throbbed. "Would-would someone from the audience just like to follow me behind this curtain for a moment? Won't take long lovies!"  
  
A handsome young police officer got up from his seat to comply right away. How friendly this audience was. Drusilla smiled sweetly and held back the curtain for the officer, letting it fall back behind them. A few slight suckling and tearing of clothes sounds followed and soon Drusilla was back. Alone. The Special Agent looked very confident and quite cheerful with herself once again. "The young officer's come over all faint. Don't worry though dearies." Drusilla smiled evilly. "He'll be back on his feet in no time! Now where were we my loves?"  
  
It was assistant Harmony's turn to fume. Why the nerve. Leaving me out like that, Harmony thought. Just for that, all the slides were going to end up the wrong way round!  
  
****  
  
"Drusilla's an FBI Agent?" Buffy asked incredulously.  
  
"And apparently very excellent in her field!" former watcher, Wesley Wyndham Price informed the surprised group. Buffy, Dawn and Willow had visited Angel Investigations, on what seemed to be a matter of some urgency. Once again Wesley had relished the chance to put his research skills to good use. "She personally solved seven of the most difficult and puzzling Federal crimes of the last few years. All in the last three months. Everything from kidnappings to serial killings and even alleged reports of alien abductions and weird cult rituals. From what I've learned from hacking into private FBI websites, Drusilla really must possess the most brilliant and deductive mind. What an opportunity it must be for the agents who work in the field with her."  
  
Buffy's glare and Angel's jealous protests of "beginner's luck" brought Wesley's glowing appraisal to a halt.  
  
"Okay, I'm ready." Willow got up from the intricate pentagram she had been painstakingly creating on the floor. She checked to see that all the necessary ingredients were on hand. "Are you sure you want to go through with this, Buff?"  
  
Angel grimly stepped in. "It seems like the right thing to do. I still feel responsible for all the torment I inflicted on Dru and her family. All her victims are really all on my hands. If this spell can restore her sanity and her soul then we have to take the chance." That sounded noble enough, Angel thought. No hint at all that deep down inside he was just trying to get rid of a rival close to his own line of work.  
  
"Never mind that!" Buffy interrupted Angel's thoughts. "Miss Edith has taken someone from the Summers family. Again! I just want her to feel the hurt and loss she's inflicted on us. And if getting to her through her crazy mistress is the way to do it, so be it. If Miss Edith wants her life back to reliable normality, she'll have to agree to never see Mr Gordo ever again. Start the chanting, Willow."  
  
****  
  
Noone was more surprised than Drusilla herself, at how long she had been able to keep her current career going. Neither her FBI colleagues or various law enforcement agencies, in the various states her job had taken her, suspected anything at all unusual about her methods. Even her habit of "sleeping late" during daylight hours and the dead bodies, that inevitably followed her every assignment, just seemed like her own peculiar eccentricity. Much like Sherlock Holmes and his infamous cocaine habit. As far as her trainers at Quantico and the fellow officers (those still alive) were concerned, Drusilla was a complete natural in her field with an original and keenly developed sense for the job.  
  
Drusilla sighed. Just as she'd feared. Harmony had gotten bored and started making shadow animals using the light of the projector. Drusilla tried to ignore it. "And this slide shows the cabin where I found the two missing Farley sisters, who strangely turned pale and died just soon after being found. Poor dears." Oh for goodness sake! Getting impatient Drusilla realised that it was impossible to continue under these unprofessional conditions. She had to find a way to occupy Harmony's mind. And there was only one way to do that at the moment. "And if you excuse me, I really must have a word with my naughty little assistant." Drusilla apologised. "Harmony!" she hissed. When her assistant looked up, Drusilla whispered for only her ears. "Be a dear and lock all the doors for me. There's a good girl."  
  
This plan seemed to work. Harmony got all excited with glee. Now they were going to do something fun. Dru was the best boss ever. Just as Harmony was about to get up though, she noticed something unusual about Drusilla. Something really odd, even for her. The audience members seemed to notice it too.  
  
Drusilla was all of sudden feeling quite poorly. She could hear an unpleasant chanting from some far off place. Such horrible words that were being said. And then it seemed that something special was being taken from her head. Drusilla reached out to clutch it back but it was too intangible. All the sounds in her head, telling her fun things, seemed to just disappear. All the sing-songs, all the whispers. It was like the stars had all died. Except now that didn't make any sense to her. Nothing did, except a horrible realisation and feeling of revulsion.  
  
"Oh no!" Dru began to sob frightfully. "It was that horrible man that's been following me in dreams. I can't shake him. He hurt everyone and then just when I thought I was safe he...." Drusilla wracked with sobs and felt like she was going to be sick. Gradually, she felt something coming back to her though. Pleasant whispers. Shadows dancing on the wall. Almost as sudden as the change had come over her, Drusilla began to feel all normal again. But everyone was staring at her.  
  
****  
  
"Did it work?" Buffy asked expectantly.  
  
Willow seemed to concentrate on something. She shook her head. "No. Just for moments. And then it was as if something interfered. Like...." Willow shook in horror. "Buffy I think something's gone really wrong. I felt something else there. I think we accidentally opened up a portal. I think something really bad is stepping through!"  
  
The walls of Angel's office shook. A tangible ripple ran through the plaster. From far off, something screeched.....And laughed!  
  
A massive explosion of energy erupted in downtown Los Angeles. A great and terrible demon was unleashed.  
  
****  
  
Drusilla felt all better now. Just a little weak from the fright was all. She really didn't see what all the fuss was about. But now the whole roomful of people were staring at her with concern. They had seen something else in Drusilla a moment ago. Something wrong.  
  
Drusilla's boss came forward. He nodded with a grim understanding and spoke softly, but very, very firmly. "Special Agent Drusilla. It is with great regret that I now must relieve you of all your FBI duties. That change that came over you. We've seen this sudden change come over our most exceptional agents before."  
  
"I'm fine!" Drusilla protested. And she was. But she could see that it was too late. They wouldn't trust her now.  
  
"It's not your fault." Drusilla's superior spoke tenderly, almost fatherly. "It's the stress of your job. All the unimaginable horrors of hunting serial killers and examining first hand, the scenes of ritual murders. You were one of the finest pupils to ever come out of Quantico. Perhaps we pushed you too hard. I hope someday you can forgive us. Maybe it's just rest you need."  
  
"No!" Drusilla's eyes flashed. Her face morphed into predatory mode. Another sign of stress? Drusilla had loved her job. Had loved the challenges. Laughing at the silly cattle as she worked and played in their world. This was something she had done on her own, without Spike, Angelus or her domineering Grandma. Drusilla wasn't just willing to give it up. "The reports of the illegal cloning factory at Freeserf!" Drusilla hissed at the fools. "The British police asked for me!"  
  
"Your assistant Harmony can take over your current assignment." the big boss assured. He looked to Harmony, with respect and awe. "As your personal assistant for all this time, I can only imagine the breadth of knowledge and insight that she must have picked up from your exemplary example."  
  
Harmony was over the moon. "Me? Really? My own assignment? Woo Hoo!"  
  
Drusilla was enraged. "Restrain her!" she heard someone shout, as she flew into a fury. In the end it would take over twenty of the police officers and FBI agents present, to do just that. 


	3. Chapter Three The Red Menace

CHAPTER THREE -  
THE RED MENACE  
  
Somewhere in Scotland. Django strolled into his local jobcentre, wondering what exciting adventure would await him this time. In the past it had often doubled as a place to be given special assignments or find more exotic job offers than the commonplace. Of course not everyone was observant enough to notice this. To the trained eye though, could be found such interesting delights as bounty hunting, some mercenary or spy work and even the chance to go back in time and be an 18th century poet, during the week and come back home at weekends. Today however, the jobs available lacked a certain spark. Shrugging, Django went to the desk of his adviser. This was not his usual adviser but that, in itself, was no cause for concern. The fact that none of the employees present seemed familiar, was a little puzzling though.  
  
"I'm ready for my next assignment." Django broke the ice. These office types liked it when you would seem eager.  
  
"Excuse me?" the stern, bespectacled woman frowned.  
  
Ah, Django thought smugly, not been fully briefed. These officials were always a little disorganised. He tried again. "The computer factory in Silicon Valley was destroyed. I'm ready for more. And quite frankly, the beer money's beginning to run dry."  
  
The job adviser observed him gravely.  
  
Django was getting frustrated. He looked around. "What's with you? You lot aren't usually bothered about speaking freely with others around."  
  
"I must ask you to leave." the stern employee informed him.  
  
Django reached across the table and furiously grabbed his nemesis. "Now you listen here!" Django growled through clenched teeth. "Is this anyway to treat one of your top operatives?"  
  
A powerful hand gripped Django's shoulder. "I'm afraid I must ask you to come with me, Mr Django." a strangely familiar voice intoned, carefully pronouncing every word in monotone. "All will be revealed. But please do not make a scene."  
  
Django slowly turned in his chair, where he could now see a group of men with slicked back hair, black suits and dark sunglasses. Django swung round, but the butt of a gun was brought down on him. He lost consciousness.  
  
****  
  
When Django awoke, he was tied to a chair, in a small dimly lit room. The man who had spoken to him and knocked him unconscious was coldly observing him.  
  
"I did not introduce myself earlier, Mr Django. My name is Agent Smith." the man revealed in the same monotone as before. "I must apologise for the earlier confusion. I'm afraid your local jobcentre is no longer being used for the more exotic opportunities you are looking for. That operation and it's employees has been moved to a new location. You see, Mr Django, we have reason to believe that the operation has been compromised by a mole."  
  
Django was shocked. "A-a mole?"  
  
"Yes. We believe that the KGB have gotten to someone, unwittingly to that person. We further believe that the KGB have been brainwashing the mole to take on extra assignments, in the belief that they are carrying out their usual assignments. This brainwashing is carried out, using a combination of vodka and Milla Jovovich movies."  
  
"Oh come on!" Django berated laughingly. "That's ridiculous!"  
  
"Indeed." Agent Smith assented. "Mr Django, do you keep vodka at home?"  
  
"I have some left over from Christmas." Django answered warily.  
  
"Does drinking vodka lead to you addressing others as Comrade?"  
  
"Er....I think you'll find that's a bit of a joke, mate."  
  
"I see." Agent Smith responded to the unsatisfactory answer unamused. "Mr Django, why did you blow up a computer factory in Silicon Valley?"  
  
"I was defending the French from an infestation of corporate zombies." Django asserted confused. "Look, I really don't see what this has to do with anything."  
  
Agent Smith was beginning to get impatient. "Mr Django, what reason would Milla Jovovich have to turn to you, while watching a film and tell you to play Blondie's "Contact In Red Square" backwards?"  
  
Ooh! He knew this one! Thinking for a bit... "It contains a message." Django explained. "It gives the names and locations of...." Realisation began to dawn. Oops!  
  
Agent Smith was intrigued. "Mr Django?"  
  
"I think I should get myself a lawyer.... or something." Django paled. But wait a minute! Django decided it was his turn to ask a question. "Exactly why was the computer factory employing demons there anyway?"  
  
A bead of sweat trickled down Agent Smith's brow. He stood up quickly. "I am not at liberty to give out that information. This interview is over!" ****  
  
Drusilla was enjoying a luxurious bath, in the comfort of her hotel suite. There were some things in life that money couldn't buy, Drusilla observed. But for all else, there was a dead person's credit card. She wondered briefly, what the evil ex had been up to of late. The silly sod had gotten himself a soul. How all the worms in the ground must get together and laugh at him. Drusilla however, had always been a survivor. Always ready to move onto the next project. Speaking of which....  
  
Drusilla giggled at something wicked, the bathroom tiles said, and reached for the phone beside the bath. Punching in a number, she was delighted to hear the cheerful voice of Direct Enquiries. "Hello dearie, I'd like to find an agent in Los Angeles. I want to have a sit-com." Lying back and cheerfully listening to the confused operator (who really wasn't much help at all), Drusilla let out a contented sigh. Her time with the FBI was already a distant memory.  
  
****  
  
Time had lost all meaning for Django, in his windowless cell, with it's constant artificial light source. Who knew what time of day it was? He hadn't been able to get much sleep since they'd moved him to this sterile, underground prison. Django looked up at the television monitor as it flickered. He knew they were using it to monitor him constantly. Django looked on with curiosity at the curious flicker that seemed to disrupt it now. A full burst of static followed.  
  
A new image appeared. The silhouetted form of what appeared to be a very tiny girl in a Victorian dress and with a bow in her curls. Words tapped out at the bottom of the screen: There's worse things than Big Brother watching you.  
  
"Oh yeah?" Django answered the screen incredulously. "Like what?"  
  
Being forced to watch Big Brother, the screen replied.  
  
Django laughed. "Yeah, well you've got me there."  
  
It's true you know.  
  
Django frowned. "What is?"  
  
About the KGB using you.  
  
"Yes." Django sighed. "I thought so, to be honest."  
  
I can get you away from all that. If you'd like.  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
Call me the Matchmaker.  
  
"How can you help me?"  
  
Just follow my instructions and directions carefully. And bring some cake. I've been a bad example again, but I must have some or I'll go mad! 


	4. Chapter Four Temptation Waits

CHAPTER FOUR -  
TEMPTATION WAITS  
  
Irvine, Scotland. Django entered the bar, cautiously and skulkily. He was trying to appear casual, but it wasn't easy. The town of Irvine had never been a favourite hangout of his. It had that sinister, unfriendly, parochial vibe Django disliked so much, in it's every nook and cranny. And all the pubs seemed so dark and gloomy. This one proved no exception.  
  
Django carefully glanced around and then went to the back of the bar, where there were some tables. He was much relieved that this part of the bar seemed devoid of patrons. This was where he was to rendezvous with his contact. The mysterious benefactor.  
  
Django frowned. This wasn't right. At one of the tables, sat a little old fashioned doll and a cuddly stuffed pig. What the hell was this? There were no kids around and it didn't seem the family type of bar. Django noticed something else on the table. Casually sliding his hand over the table (nothing suspicious there) he picked up a bulging envelope. Django, it was written on the front. The writing was very clumsy. Almost like a doll would write, if you allowed your mind to go down that route. Django chuckled.  
  
Opening the envelope, Django found the items he expected to find. False papers and passport. Some money. Django eagerly pocketed the items. "Well I guess this is for you then." he said bashfully, placing a cake box on the table. Now he'd seen just about everything. Still feeling that unpleasant "Irvine vibe", he was all set for skeedaddling.  
  
A berating (but Django couldn't help noting, very sexy) voice came from behind Django. "Just what do you think you're doing?" The words reverberated with rage. Django half turned, as the beautiful raven haired woman in a gothic dress flitted right past him, turning to eye him with contempt.  
  
Django was taken by surprise and couldn't answer. Besides he was pretty much at a loss as to what was going on. The girl picked up the doll and appeared to be addressing it. "Miss Edith speaks with a potty mouth. She shows contempt for all lessons on manners and I expressly forbid her from cake for a week!" Putting the doll down, Drusilla turned to address Django. "You're the one who's been putting all that nonsense in my dear dolly's head. She speaks of nothing but magic jobcentres and KGB brainwashing."  
  
Django felt on trial. "No....yes...probably. All I really know is, I was helped to escape."  
  
Drusilla laughed at this. "You were like a little bird with no wings. My dolly brought you worms in the nest to feed on." Django realised he liked the sing-song lilt to the girl's voice. Clasping the cake box to her waist, Drusilla sat at the next table. She as yet had no idea why bad Miss Edith was playing match maker. And it puzzled her.  
  
Django's curiosity was overpowering his previous urge to leave. How ravishing this strange girl looked to him. And how intriguing her words were. Feigning a casual no rush to be anywhere attitude, he got a beer from the unfriendly bartender and sat down at the last of the tables in the corner. He took out the book he had been reading. It was far too dim, but he was just under a "light" and he pretended to read.  
  
Drusilla sighed as she picked up one of the beer coasters on her table. "Where I came from they didn't 'ave beer coasters." she spoke absentmindedly to noone in particular. "They had mineshafts and accidents and everything was nice. This isn't even interesting to read!" she flipped the silly thing to the floor.  
  
"What are you reading?" Drusilla moved closer to the young man, who was beginning to attract her curiosity.  
  
"Jane Eyre." Django looked up at her....and almost fell into her mesmerising eyes.  
  
"Ooh, Jane Eyre!" Drusilla closed her eyes in a wave of nostalgia. "I saw one of her performances, when I was just a little girl. She was the first punk rocker, you know."  
  
Django's eyes widened in surprise. "What? No! Really?"  
  
Drusilla looked at him again. "It's true. Noone really got her act then, what with the chains and all. But I always knew it was just a matter of time before what she was doing, reached a wider audience."  
  
Django thought about it for a moment. "Well she does have the attitude, the way she stood up to Mrs Reed. It's very good. I read another Charlotte Bronte book, Shirley, a few years ago but I was disappointed, that the book ends before she joins Garbage."  
  
Drusilla examined him queerly, not knowing whether she should explain something to him or not. Then she brightened again. "Oh, I see! For a moment there dearie, I thought you were being serious. Quite mad this one, I thought. I can see I'll have to watch you." She smiled at her admirer. He was really very sweet, stealing glances at her while he was reading. Blushing when she looked at him. Miss Edith had played a right little game on him, and Drusilla was beginning to see why. Time for a test though. "I'm Drusilla!"  
  
Django started. "What, THE Drusilla? So you're not just a bit-" He stopped himself. He had been about to say "a bit eccentric."  
  
"You've heard of me?" Drusilla was impressed.  
  
"Of course." Django affirmed.  
  
"I'm glad." Drusilla felt some relief. "I met a demon once who hadn't heard of me. I had to tear off his ears! Glad I don't have to do that with you."  
  
Django seemed glad too. "Er....can I get you a drink?"  
  
Drusilla was amused. "Oh they won't serve it to you dearie. Your heart thunders in your chest like a little cosy rabbit warren!" She signalled to the bar man. When he came over, Django was surprised to see he was now a tusk faced demon. His hostess and the demon conversed. She waved it away and a few minutes later drinks were brought. Hers was very red. Django had been brought a bottle of Newcastle Brown Ale, the true King Of Beers! How perceptive. Django now felt a new relaxed air towards him from the bar patrons, as if he'd received approval. "Cheers m'dears!" Drusilla clinked her drink against Django's.  
  
A few drinks later and they were still talking merrily. Drusilla had since went onto wine and was feeling pleasantly tipsy. Django was beginning to think he should go with a glass of water for the next round. Drusilla whispered something in his ear. "What, in here?" Django asked looking round.  
  
"The whole town." Drusilla corrected. "Run by demons for demons!"  
  
"Run by demons." Django pondered. It made sense, he realised. Strange, that he hadn't suspected as such before now. "So that's why all the pubs keep out the sunlight."  
  
"Mmmmm, I always love to come here when I'm in the UK again." Drusilla explained. "It's world famous as one of the best towns for demons to get together." She thought about it for a bit. "They don't much like humans though."  
  
The night wore on. Django had not kept to his water diet and was growing more amorous. "Would you like me to sing for you, Dru?" he asked, grinning seductively.  
  
Drusilla grew reflectively serious at that. "The evil ex sang to me sometimes..." she mused remembering-  
  
Brazil. Poor Jilted Spike was making an even more pathetic display of himself. Drunkenly serenading below a hotel window.  
  
"Oh, Dru is cruel and heartless, To pack me for a chaos demon, Just 'cause he's more demon than me, Just 'cause he's got slime and antlers!  
  
But I know he's a moron! Chaos demons are morons! Chaos demons are morons! Chaos demons are -OW!"  
  
A boot forcefully hit Spike on the head. "Shut up Spike!" Drusilla had roared from the window.  
  
This was followed by the apologetic tones of the chaos demon. "Once again, I'm really sorry about all this."  
  
-"Didn't like it much." Drusilla concluded cattily. Growing more morose she looked at Django, searching his face for an answer. "Would you stake me, your little princess?"  
  
"What? No!" Django was genuinely shocked by the idea. "How can you think such a thing?"  
  
"The evil ex was going to stake me once." Drusilla explained bitterly. "Was trying to show off for his little blonde tart, 'e was!"  
  
Django's eyes bulged in their sockets. "Where does he live, this creep?"  
  
"Look at you! All ready to defend my honour!" Drusilla's spirits lifted completely. She nuzzled her new champion proudly. "Drusilla's brave knight is what you are!" Drusilla kissed Django on the cheek and whispered, "Just give me a couple of minutes to pop out and get meself a nibble. And then we'll go find someplace more exciting!"  
  
****  
  
The music was booming and Django and Drusilla were lost in their dancing. Everything was perfect. Drusilla was so pleased to have found someone so mad as herself and Django was seeing a whole new world through her eyes.  
  
The club Drusilla had found for them was just perfect for Django. They'd been dancing for well over an hour now, among all sorts of demons to the likes of Blondie, Garbage, The Clash, Generation X and all sorts of others. They'd even shared a slow seductive dance to Rasputina's "Transylvanian Concubine" and it was as if Drusilla had never heard it with anyone else. Django wondered why places like this could exist for demons, when humans were so content to badger themselves senseless with continuous, thumping, tuneless noise or manufactured pop for kids at most of their clubs.  
  
All that was changing now however. The wild lights were beginning to go for Django's head. His drinking had caught up with him, it seemed and he had to run outside to the alley.  
  
"Oah!" Drusilla whispered to herself as she steadied herself against the wall. It seemed that even she wasn't quite immune to all those little wines she'd had. Seeing her exciting, new companion like this, Drusilla had to admit he didn't seem like much. Crouched down in a back alley trying to let the fresh air wash over him and trying not to be sick anymore.  
  
Drusilla came up to him and put her hands around his neck. How easy it would be to just twist his head off and move on, to pastures new. Drusilla contemplated it. But then she remembered him, all ready to defend her no matter what. Drusilla's brave knight she'd called him earlier. And just think how much fun they'd had. Angelus and Spike had often been such moody, glum sorts at times. Django, however had been such fun all night. It would be a shame to let his puny human reaction to intoxication ruin all that. Drusilla relented.  
  
Django felt her hands on his neck. "Going to massage me then?" he wondered, patting her hands.  
  
Drusilla smiled. "Let's get you home love."  
  
****  
  
Django groaned as he awoke. The room he was in was very dark. The curtains were shut up tight. There was a good reason for that though, he remembered. They were in a nice hotel suite. Seeing Drusilla lying under the covers all snug, he decided not to disturb her. He tried to get some more rest himself. Maybe in a while, when he was feeling more steady, he would get himself a glass of water.  
  
Django couldn't help feel a bit guilty about overdrinking. Him and Drusilla were having so much fun and then he'd gone and botched it. It said much for her apparent affection for him, that she hadn't tired of him after it stopped being fun. He had been nervous of course (of her losing interest and moving onto another). The last few days had been pretty weird and trying. But that seemed no excuse for letting her down like that. Putting up with someone else's hangover was hardly the perfect cap to a night. How could he possibly make it up to her?  
  
Eventually Django got a few more patches of sleep and it was around mid-day before Drusilla showed any signs of waking. She was pleased that her new companion wasn't just one of her nonsense dreams after all. She remembered what a sharp mind she'd sensed in him. Like a bright diamond it had seemed. And she was just like a magpie. I'll come along and snatch your secrets for me nest, Drusilla thought.  
  
Drusilla's companion hadn't really registered that she was ready to stir yet. He wasn't quite sleeping though, she could tell. It would be a few hours yet before they could go out and do anything together. Well, maybe not hours, it was still the UK after all. Drusilla was very curious about her Django. He had been too drunk to play with last night. Besides she wanted to spend some time, slowly unwrapping her present. Not that that had stopped her taking a peek in all the right places though.  
  
"Are you feeling alright, dearie?" Drusilla rolled over and leaned over him.  
  
Django affirmed that he was. "Much better thanks."  
  
Drusilla kissed him wetly on the mouth. "You seemed to like that basin in the bathroom, more than you liked me."  
  
Django blushed at the memory. "Of course not. I was very bad. I'm sorry about that."  
  
Much of his colour was returning, Dru could tell. "Miss Edith has been bad too. She and that pig. Gone off somewhere they 'ave. We lost track of their whereabouts."  
  
Django remembered the doll and the pig. Very odd. But already he was starting to think of them as family. "Want me to go and look for them in a bit?"  
  
Drusilla shook her head. "Oh they'll turn up. At least she will. She always does. I'm worried about her and the pig though. Weak he is. He'll go back to that Buffy more than likely. She'll find a way to make him."  
  
Django started to rise but Drusilla put a hand on his chest, to restrain him. "Oh let's get a proper look at you." Drusilla grinned. Django grinned back and let his arms enfold her waist closer. He realised that when all was said and done, he was about to be a very lucky man.  
  
****  
  
Drusilla lay on her tummy, in no hurry to get dressed. Even though her tummy was now beginning to growl. She would have to think about that. Django fascinated her, but he was still a human creature and his dark princess had no intention of changing anything about him just yet. Still, it meant that he was not likely to be ready to see her feed, just yet. She'd have to find some time to excuse herself soon. Drusilla felt Django's touch on her shoulders and nape of her neck once more. She decided it was time to pop the question. "Would you like to be in my sit- com?"  
  
Django sat up surprised. "Sit-com?"  
  
Drusilla nodded. "I'm going to have my own sit-com soon. Got an agent setting it up in New York. Had to munch on a few telephone operators first. But you'd be surprised how easy it all was to set up."  
  
"Noone was going to say no to you." Django kissed her shoulder.  
  
"Only I thought I might need a co-star. I don't want to leave all the big decisions to my greedy producers. And I think you'd be wonderful as a writer." Drusilla glowed excitedly. "What do you say pet?"  
  
"Let's go pet!" Django did not hesitate. Good job for him that the McCarthy Witch Hunts were all over though, he thought sardonically. What with his alleged brainwashing and all. Django wasn't sure what to believe anymore. He knew how much he was enjoying being around this girl though. And there couldn't possibly be another like her. This would be the beginning of a great adventure. 


	5. Chapter Five Into Every Relationship A ...

CHAPTER FIVE -  
INTO EVERY RELATIONSHIP A LITTLE  
BLOOD MUST FALL!  
  
It was a dark and stormy night in New York. Drusilla had a meeting to attend with the two producers, who had been assigned to work with her. The limo ride over to the offices had been pleasant but for some reason, Drusilla felt the air whisper apprehension to her, about the whole thing. The building was mostly deserted except for a few workers and the security staff.  
  
As soon as Drusilla walked into the office, she could tell one of the producers was going to be a problem. She just got a bad vibe from him. The other one seemed nice enough though. He seemed to be one of those geeky types, who somehow had managed to fall into a regular job that actually suited him.  
  
"Come sit here, beside me." the slimy one offered, patting the seat beside him on the couch. "Join me on the casting couch." He had a perverse glint in his eye. The other one rolled his eyes and shuffled his notes.  
  
"I prefer to stand, dearie." Drusilla's words seethed like snapping snakes. Standing, looking down at this man, Drusilla felt very regal. She eyed him with contempt. He really was a toad. Actually Drusilla had met a toad demon once. He had been nice and adorably cute to her though. Not at all like this thing before her.  
  
Drusilla decided to pointedly turn all her attention to the nice one. Rising, he offered Dru his own chair and she graciously accepted. The toad resentfully had to move up on the couch to make room for his colleague. Once the pleasantries were out of the way, the nice producer began to talk excitedly.  
  
"My concept for the show is that it should appeal to the key demographics while pulling in a hipper, more turned on audience at the same time." Pleased that Drusilla was ready to listen to his outline, he carried on with even more enthusiasm. "Dru & The City should be all about a yuppie, upwardly mobile, young vampire looking for love in the big city. She'll have to juggle a demanding job and her social life with the needs of being a vampire-"  
  
Here the toad interjected. "Now there's one of the things I was hoping to bring up. I really think we need to drop the whole vampire angle."  
  
Drusilla was confused. "What? But I am a vampire."  
  
"Yes." the toad grinned slimily. "But that's really not a fact we have to let the viewing public in on. I really feel that the whole vampire thing could turn off a lot of viewers. It could make it seem too much like a kiddies cartoon or something."  
  
Drusilla's eyes narrowed. She could feel a growl rising to her throat. The nice producer wisely decided to move on with his concept speech. "Well anyway, we could also have you having to deal with the antics of your crazy roommate and always having to help out your wacky demon friends, when they get themselves in all sorts of comic situations."  
  
Once again, Drusilla had been hanging delightedly on the nice geek's every word. And once again, the slimy toad on his lilypad had an objection. "I have to go against the idea of demons on the show."  
  
Drusilla felt distraught. "But all my demon friends know about the show. I've already promised them guest parts. This had already been agreed on -"  
  
The slimy producer ignored her argument. "And this Django can't be on the show as your roommate. We need someone more familiar to viewers. How about Troy McLure? He's pretty cheap to work with."  
  
Drusilla was on her feet, shaking with uncontrollable rage. "Troy McLure? Over my Django?" Django's puppy dog eyes flashed before her. It was all too much!  
  
"Yes." the producer went on obliviously. "You may remember him from such other sit-coms as Handle With Care and-"  
  
But it was too late. Drusilla had leapt on him like a vicious feline. She slit the horrible producer's throat with her nails. A big jet of blood sprayed from the wound. Dead without another croak! The other producer was on his feet, muttering "Oh God! Oh God!"s and stumbling towards the desk alarm.  
  
Drusilla calmly grabbed him and forced him against the wall. She held him firmly by the throat. Jutting about in a blind panic, the throat was. "Now you listen to me dearie." Drusilla spoke in a no-nonsense tone. "I like your ideas. What a nice brain you have. Just keep getting ideas like those and keep any suggestions I make in mind. Otherwise I'll have to scoop your brain out and 'ave meself a feast!"  
  
The frightened producer nodded nervously. Drusilla smiled and relaxed visibly. She straightened his tie for him. "See you at the next meeting dearie!" she cheerfully waved on her way out.  
  
The producer pondered on whether to call security or not. On the other hand, he kind of liked the idea of being promoted over his horrible superior, who never passed any of his ideas. Time to find a mop and maybe a few bin bags.  
  
****  
  
A few weeks later, Drusilla and Django were sitting in their New York apartment. Drusilla was so excited, wishing the commercial break would hurry up and arrive.  
  
Django was amused, watching her all giddy like this. Proud too. Dru had filmed a promo to announce the forthcoming sit-com. Her producer had informed her when the promo was to air. And it was to be tonight! Django put his arm around his love and kissed her cheek. "Just a few minutes to go pet."  
  
Drusilla ignored the obvious Spike-ism of "pet". He was probably doing it unconsciously, Dru realised. In hindsight though, maybe telling Django some stories of her Fearsome Foursome days hadn't been such a good idea. Still, at least it meant that there were less new mannerisms to learn, about her new boyfriend. Just so long as he didn't start dyeing all his lovely brown hair to blonde.  
  
And then it was on! A New York skyline. New York street scenes and exhaust fumes. "In the city it can be hard to find love and juggle the needs of all your crazy friends." the announcer boomed over the images.  
  
Here a fungus demon was shown in a kitchen, with his head stuck in a take- away chicken box. "Oh no!" Drusilla's very own voice cried out from the tv set. "Not again!"  
  
"Sometimes it can be hard being a vampire, even an upwardly mobile one." the announcer continued as a new scene appeared.  
  
Drusilla was in an office, standing at a water cooler and berating an employee. "We don't sleep in coffins, dearie! And if you don't like working the night shift hours, you can go to another advertising agency!"  
  
Now Drusilla turned to the screen in close up, the New York skyline behind her. "Dru & The City! Coming soon!" the announcer boomed.  
  
And it was over! Drusilla was flopping like a bunny with excitement. She leapt on top of Django and smacked her lips on his, for a long and passionate kiss.  
  
"Well done, love!" Django congratulated her, his heart all a flutter. "I know you're really looking forward to this. Now everyone can see how wonderful you are!"  
  
"Let's go to CBGBs." Drusilla beamed, stroking Django's hair. "I feel like celebrating!"  
  
"Sure." Django smiled. In some ways, though, he'd been hoping his Dru would want to stay in to celebrate. But if this was what she wanted. "Just one thing love."  
  
"Anything darling!" Dru was feeling all sparkly and generous.  
  
"Promise not to kill any of the good bands?"  
  
"I don't think you'll have to worry about that." Drusilla snickered, looking at the handbill for that evening.  
  
****  
  
Django sneaked a peek through the curtain. Sure enough, the live studio audience were already in attendance. He could also hear them talking quietly. "Ow!" Django jumped in horror and nearly fell through the curtains. He could hear the audience laughing.  
  
"Sorry love." Drusilla giggled innocently. "It's just that you looked so tasty! I couldn't resist." Dru had forgotten how fragile mere mortals could be about such things. Good job it was only a little love nibble.  
  
Django rubbed at his neck, hoping it wasn't all red. Drusilla had startled him. "I didn't even know you were around pet. Last I saw, you were talking with the producer."  
  
"Ooooh I was. But then I felt the moon call out to dance with me. It's ever so excited. Perhaps I should get it a guest spot." Drusilla closed her eyes dreamily. She was away again. Django didn't mind though. In truth he adored it about her. He just hoped the fairies were putting in a good word for him. Drusilla moved closer to Django and put her hands around his waist. "Are you nervous about all this? I want it to be your night too, you know."  
  
"Just a bit." Django confided. "I've done a bit of acting before. Amateur theatre and all. Doubt I was ever any good though." He'd told Drusilla all this before of course. But he had never been sure if she was listening or not. He wasn't even sure now. "I'll be okay if I can just go over my lines again."  
  
"Oh, don't worry about your lines, my sweet." Drusilla tee-heed at him. Honestly, sometimes she wondered what planet her Django was on. "I don't really expect my demon friends have bothered to read it anyway." She tapped her head. "Some of them are a bit thick you know."  
  
Drusilla ignored Django's impending panic attack and took his hand, leading him away. "We're on in five minutes. And afterwards we can go out and eat all the stars together!"  
  
****  
  
The filming before a live studio audience was not going quite to what Django had expected. Some of the demons who weren't even supposed to be on the set, at the moment, seemed to be eating some of the furniture in the kitchen. Django tried to just concentrate on his part. He got up and handed Roger the chaos demon his hat and coat.  
  
"Am I leaving then?" Roger asked confused.  
  
"Yes." Django informed the demon. "You are!"  
  
As the chaos demon sulkily left the apartment, Drusilla rose from her seat. "What's wrong with you? You never seem to like any of the boyfriends I bring home."  
  
"What's Roger got that I haven't?" Django asked, thinking that he was doing a good job of seeming jealous. Amazing how easy it was.  
  
"Horns!" Drusilla answered, matter of factly.  
  
The audience roared with laughter.  
  
"Sssshhhhh!" Drusilla ordered, putting her finger to her mouth.  
  
The audience laughed again.  
  
Drusilla was getting quite cross with them. At that point, the silly actress, who was playing Drusilla's secretary in another scene, erupted from the office set screaming. A big hairy demon came trundling after her. "Help! I'm being attacked by a monster!"  
  
Drusilla was annoyed. Silly actress! Ruining her sit-com like this! "You're in the wrong scene! I'm going to let Harold eat you."  
  
The audience, assuming this whole scene was meant to be more off the wall humour, were laughing again. So much noise! Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. The blood of the audience seemed to throb together in one big mass. It seemed to create an enormous blood flavour table jelly. Drusilla licked her lips....  
  
....And she leapt into the audience and started ripping and tearing. Her face morphing into vamp mode, Dru realised that this would be far better than anything in the shoddy script. Dru vamped down on an audience member. The others screamed. And panicked. And fled. Drusilla's demon friends decided to join in, some pursuing the audience, others going for the camera crew.  
  
Django was stunned by the sudden change. Only Roger wasn't bothering to join in, yet. The chaos demon patted Django on the shoulder. Poor human looked like he was going to faint. "I really think the two of you make a nice couple." Roger offered.  
  
"Thank you." Django tried to smile. He turned away from the carnage, knowing he was powerless to do anything about it. He knew what Drusilla got up to, of course, and he understood it was in her nature. Only up until now, she had kept it from his eyes. "Usually with scenes like this I'd be fighting the demons." Django explained.  
  
"I understand." Roger nodded sympathetically. "It can't be easy being a reformed bigot." Django looked at the chaos demon alarmed and realised he needed some fresh air.  
  
Drusilla was having so much fun. This was even better than some silly sit- com. That idea had been too soon after working for the FBI. It had been a spot of delicious violence she had needed, not more commitment to the human world.  
  
Drusilla delightedly looked around for Django....and immediately realised her mistake. Feeling just a little guilty about her little faux-pas, Dru went scampering after her companion. "Are you angry with me? Are you disappointed about the sit-com?" When Django turned his gaze on her, Drusilla saw just how green he looked. "Are you feeling alright love?"  
  
Django shook his head. "I just need to get some fresh air. I'm not used to it being like this love."  
  
"Well don't go too far." Dru followed a few steps, patting Django concernedly on the back. "My demon friends are going to throw a party to celebrate the show. And we should probably think about leaving New York for just a bit." 


	6. Chapter Six Dru's Funny Valentine

CHAPTER SIX -  
DRU'S FUNNY VALENTINE  
  
The discomfort that Django had felt about "The New York Sit-Com Massacre" was nothing, compared to what he was feeling now. They were at the demons' party in some abandoned building. Django didn't exactly feel entirely welcome. Normally when he was with Dru, demons were accepting of him. This time however, Dru and her demon friends had just had their little massacre together. And that seemed to create a special bond between them, that Django was excluded from. There was at best, an air of condescension towards him. At worst the demons were mentally sizing him up, for any number of tasty dishes.  
  
That wasn't the real problem though. Drusilla almost seemed to have forgotten about Django since the party started. She had been busy catching up with old friends. The real problem was how increasingly flirty she was becoming around the demons. And around Drusilla, the demons flocked like moths to flame. Flaunting their muscles, baring their teeth and letting Drusilla touch their horns!  
  
Django had been drinking in a corner for a while, seemingly forgotten. He was trying not to let his fears and emotions carry him away. Now he was steeling himself towards trying to get a chance to talk to Dru alone. But for the first time, he was almost afraid. That was crazy, he told himself. She was passing close to him, on her way to another gathering of demons. Django reached out to gently take her arm.  
  
Drusilla turned towards him and her face lit up with recognition. "Django, love! Come and meet Cuthbert with me. He's a flame demon. Used to fancy me mad, he did. But Spike used to keep him away."  
  
"I'd rather not Dru. Can't we talk in private for a moment." Django tried to persuade her.  
  
"Oh come on." Drusilla ignored his words. "It'll be fun. He's such a character."  
  
"No Dru!" Django's words came out harder than he had intended towards her. Seeing her look surprised at him, he tried to soften his tone. "Can't we just go somewhere else. The two of us."  
  
"I don't think I like you taking that tone with me, dearie!" Drusilla's eyelids fluttered with agitation. "I could tear your arms off and beat you to death with them if I took the notion."  
  
"Come on Dru. I'm sorry." Django tried again. "It's just I don't feel very welcome here and I don't like how the demons act around you. It's like they don't realise we're together."  
  
"You're jealous!" Drusilla hissed at him. "Talking rudely to your princess! I just want to have some fun. I can't help it if humans don't know how."  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?" Django asked hurt. "We've had fun haven't we?" By now their disagreement had come to the attention of some of the demons, who now gathered around the couple. So much for privacy.  
  
"Look at him!" Drusilla decided to make an example of her one time companion. "Thinking he was in charge for a minute. Weak one don't even have a drop of blood on him!"  
  
The demons around their raven haired goddess laughed in Django's face. "Don't love." Django said, eyes welling a bit.  
  
"Love!" Drusilla spat the word out. She became more agitated now as if having some kind of fit. "I don't like him anymore! Take him away! I can't abide how disgusting he is to me! Filthy beast!" Drusilla turned and fled from the crowd. The demons snarled (and leered?) at Django.  
  
Django fought valiantly to contain his composure, but it was a losing battle. He was even less welcome here now. And it had happened so fast he wasn't even sure who's fault it had been. Turning from the demons who rounded on him, he absentmindedly grabbed a bottle of something and fled from the scene. Drusilla seemed to be laughing somewhere in the party. Whatever happened next was at best a blur to Django.  
  
****  
  
Drusilla was leaving the party with just about an hour to dawn. She had three demon friends with her. One of them was Roger, the nice chaos demon. Another, obviously Cuthbert was all aflame walking beside her. "Don't want you getting near the gasoline in the limo." Dru laughed flirtily. Walking along the alley Drusilla spotted a familiar form.  
  
It was Django. And he was lying face down, completely comatose. A bottle of something was lying next to him. "So that's where the Flaming Warthog Juice went is it?" the third demon sneered.  
  
Drusilla was about to laugh at first. Then something more tender came over her. She bent down to examine the body. Worry crossed her brow. Roger joined her. "I didn't even know humans could handle something that strong. He looks in a bad way."  
  
Cuthbert flamed up even more. "Let me burn him for you. Leave nothing but ashes!"  
  
Drusilla was horrified. Roger began to ease the other two demons off a bit. "What have you been doing to yourself?" Drusilla asked her comatose companion. "Lying there, like a little broken doll. I've nearly destroyed you, haven't I?"  
  
Drusilla shook a little as if cold. "Roger, help me get him to the car." Roger complied. The other two demons began to try to persuade Dru to leave the human. "Don't touch me!" Dru shook them off. "Get out of my sight, wretched things." Her eyes blazed at them with hate, just then. She began to walk with Roger to the limo, patting Django's head with concern.  
  
****  
  
Django was feverish for days. Things happened to him in flashes, in delirium. He was moving at one point. It felt to him like he was on a ship. Sometimes he saw demons screaming at him, ready to rip him apart. Others, he could sense his Dru somewhere nearby, in the darkness around him.  
  
At one point he awoke, in a dimly lit room somewhere. A cloth was on his head and he felt aflame. He saw Drusilla in a seat, next to his bed. She was wearing that other face, that he'd only seen a couple of times before. And she was cradling what looked like a corpse in her lap, suckling at a wound. Turning and seeing she had a spectator, Dru said softly, "Go back to sleep love. It's just a dream."  
  
The next time Django awoke, the fever was gone. He had regained some of his senses, but was still very weak. Drusilla sat beside his bed, watching concernedly. "Oooh I knew I could keep you!" she said, triumphant. "I had a pet bird once. And I kept it fed I did." She seemed to remember something then and decided against continuing that story.  
  
"What happened to the demons?" Django asked warily.  
  
"Gone they have." Dru took his hand in hers. "Just the two of us now dearie. Almost lost you I did. Don't know what you was thinking, drinking that stuff. But I'm here to help you get better."  
  
"Is that Miss Edith?" Django asked, peering at a form across the room on another chair.  
  
Drusilla nodded and seemed agitated again. "I can't abide to have her look at me like this. Blames me for this. Says I can't hold onto the good ones."  
  
Drusilla brightened again. "We need to go on a nice holiday after this. Once you're all better. That's enough for now. Later I'll fetch you some soup. Rest love." She kissed Django on his brow. And for the next few hours, he dreamed. More pleasantly than before. Neither of them said much about the incident of the party again. 


	7. Chapter Seven Domestic Bliss

CHAPTER SEVEN -  
DOMESTIC BLISS  
  
It was a few months later before Django was back in the UK again. He and Drusilla had decided to tour the world together, going wherever their hearts or fortune desired. Barring the inevitable odd mishap or journey into terror, it had been a wonderful experience for Django. Just him and his dark princess together. Like it should be. Now they'd come to a little town in England. For a while at least. It had been a mutual wish, being that everything had been so happy of late, for them to put up shop and try some of this domestic lark. It would be an interesting learning curve for both of them. Something new, alien and challenging.  
  
"Oh look!" Drusilla exclaimed while scanning the tv listings. "There's a Manchester United game on tonight!"  
  
"It's okay." Django shook his head at his girl. "You can watch it if you want pet. I've still got some unpacking to do. Unless you really want us to do it together, that is." He didn't want to seem unreasonable by ignoring her interests after all.  
  
"I thought it's what you would want to watch." Drusilla said confused. She was so used to having to put up with all the fuss with Spike, when a game was on live or sent to him on videotape. She'd assumed Django would be the same.  
  
"Never been one for sports love." Django smiled at her and patted her head.  
  
Oh yes, last in the egg in spoon race, Drusilla caught a flash from him. She kept that to herself. "But this is so confusing. What will we do with all the marshmallow I bought?"  
  
Django shook his head again affectionately. It seemed there would be some things he'd never quite understand about his Dru.  
  
****  
  
And then the day came when the new computer they'd bought arrived. Drusilla was happy at first. Watching Django scratch his head at the instruction manual. And later when they watched The Sim lose his job and walk home so dejected. It was such fun for them to bet on whether he would commit suicide or go on a killing spree. Even more fun was to let silly Lara Croft think her players were going to lead her to safety....and then letting her plummet into the alligator pit.  
  
Drusilla realised what a valuable learning tool it could be for Django to get in touch with his darker side, unlock the inner demon. But then it all went bad! Drusilla was chastising her dollies for shouting at the neighbours, when she caught a warning flash in her head. She dashed into the spare room, where sure enough Django was on the computer again.  
  
"What are you doing love?" Drusilla approached slowly, with trepidation.  
  
"I found a How Sane Are You test on LiveJournal." Django told her. "I just need to press submit and it'll gauge my answers."  
  
"No!" Drusilla knelt beside Django and pleaded. "I'm begging you dearie. Let's move onto something else."  
  
"What's wrong Dru?" Django turned to her, concerned.  
  
Drusilla had worry on her face. "I just worry about you is all. I don't want you to get hurt with what comes up. Switch it off dearie. Do it for princess."  
  
Django was stunned. She really did seem to be worrying about the result he was going to get. He wasn't quite sure how flattering that was as to Dru's impressions of him, but it did show how much she cared for him. Django clicked on the mouse to call up the Shut Down menu. "You're right pet. Maybe it really is better not to know."  
  
Drusilla sighed in relief and let her head rest on her knees. Sometimes it could be stressful to care about her Django so deeply.  
  
****  
  
Drusilla nudged Django in the ribs, waking him. It was the middle of the night and the house was creaking. And Dru couldn't sleep for the ghastly wailing. "It's your turn to see what Miss Edith wants." she said.  
  
Django turned over at his side of the bed. "Dru, pet, you can't really be serious."  
  
"I can't sleep." Drusilla groaned yawning. "She's already woken me twice tonight."  
  
Django groaned tiredly and forced himself up. To be honest it really gave him the creeps when Dru did this. The idea of her hearing crying in the night from the smaller bedroom. Brrr! He didn't like the house at night, in the dark, when it creaked like this and a window somewhere in the house had blown open.  
  
Django made his way timidly to the small bedroom where Drusilla kept her dolls at night. There he found Miss Edith sitting creepily in the corner. Not really knowing what to do next, Django picked her up and patted her. "There. There, there, Miss Edith. Go back to sleep now."  
  
A small cough from behind Django nearly made him jump out of his skin. Drusilla stood in the doorway in her nightgown, looking very dazed. "Turns out it wasn't Miss Edith at all." Drusilla relayed, as if from somewhere else. "It was someone else I haven't met. Crying somewhere in the house." Drusilla shrugged and went over to kiss Django and Miss Edith goodnight. "I think there's a window open downstairs again love. Be a dear and close it after you're done with Miss Edith." She turned to go back to bed, without waiting for a reply.  
  
****  
  
"Sentimental hogwash!" Drusilla muttered to herself as she sat in the living room with Django. He was watching the mini-series "Taken" and Drusilla was feeling bored. She had to admit that the Blair Witch girl was superbly devious though. If only there had been someone like that in the FBI could have teamed up with, Drusilla thought, wondering what had happened to her important case that Harmony snatched from her. Should have given her my sit-com too, Drusilla thought evilly.  
  
Drusilla couldn't go another minute of some vomit-inducing brat and her dorky parents being all sugary. And after that it would be Smallville! The only episode Dru had ever liked was the one where Clark got all badass in his leather. Mmmmm, Django liked to wear leather. Would he get up and wear it for her now? Drusilla listened to the air around her. It sparkled and told her magnificent things. "Ooooh! I'd almost forgotten about that!" Dru whispered. Rising from the sofa, she turned to Django sweetly. "Care for some marshmallow love?"  
  
Ultimately Django had to wait for re-runs before he found out how it all ended.  
  
****  
  
Django huffed and wheezed with his share of the load. Drusilla felt a little guilty. She had grown lazy the last few weeks about her food disposal. And now she and Django were carrying a rolled up carpet to the stolen van. It was light as a feather to Drusilla's vampire strength of course. But she had already carried a few and Django wanted to help. So gallant he was! They got to the van and put the carpet in with a few others.  
  
"Rest a bit love." Drusilla stroked her lover's hair. "There's just another binbag or two to bring down. And then we can leave this house for good."  
  
"And our belongings?" Django asked.  
  
"Shhh!" Dru cooed mischievously and wrapped her arms around her brave knight. "I told you princess would see to it. I have some demon friends who'll help. They'll pack up all our belongings and bring them to our new house." She kissed Django and ran her hand seductively up his crotch. "All before the mean landlord knows we're gone." It was all so romantic, Drusilla reflected. They were going to go back to Scotland where Django was going to introduce her to some of his friends. "Let's get the job finished then pet."  
  
On their way out from the house, this last time, they met a nosy old woman neighbour. Time to go into suburban young wife mode, Drusilla reminded herself. The silly old woman didn't notice them being up to anything of course. She chattered away to both of them, about all the recent disappearances around the neighbourhood of late. Including a child while out playing one night. Django raised his eyebrow at Dru but she shook her head idly. Quite convincingly, she thought. Her dear sweet prince could still be so funny about things like that. Anyway, they were leaving now. Noone would be able to connect mysterious sightings of the "bloofer lady" with her.  
  
The old woman was still prattling on about how horrible it all was. But how the police were likely to catch who was behind it soon. "I dare say. I dare say." Django agreed absentmindedly, as he locked the front door. Making their excuses to get on, they carried the heavy binbags to the van. Locking the van door, they got into the driving compartment. Drusilla whispered something wicked in Django's ear and he let out a long hard laugh as they drove away.  
  
Such a nice couple, the old woman watched them go off. And with that, like Mary Of The Fourth Form before them, they headed out into the night.  
  
THE END? MMMWUUUUUHAHAHAHAHA! 


End file.
